A Merric's Tale

by Margs Murray

  Greer grabbed his bag. “I thought you might have a hard time sleeping with that wound.” He handed me the canteen and placed a pill in my hand. “Here.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “Your head has to be throbbing, and you’ve got to sleep. We have a long walk tomorrow.”

  My mind was too overwhelmed. If I didn’t take the pill, I wouldn’t sleep. I swallowed it, and Greer moved over to his sleeping bag. “You’ll feel better soon.”

  I nodded, still in shock from my discovery. I was glad for the pill because my next thoughts were too terrible to comprehend. Claudette in the hallway. Bollard could change people into birds and if he did that, turning them into other animals wasn’t a stretch. Claudette called all those animals by human names. Ms. Lisa Sanders of Barnbury loved lollipops. She was real. They had all been real people.

  Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.

  Chapter 24

  Burnt Silver

  In the morning, Greer checked my stitches and lightened my load by taking a few supplies. He asked if I was in pain. Yes, I was in pain all right, but it was all mental. My big revelation about Bollard and Manon tormented my thoughts. I was sure I was right about Bollard and thinking about the extent of what he’d done made me look at the people at L’Autre Bête in a different light. I couldn’t figure out why anyone would work for the Merrics, knowing at any moment Bollard had the capability to turn them into a slug. And yet people wanted to be around them, worshiped them. For the briefest moment, I thought about sharing the information with Greer, but I let that feeling pass. I could trust no one in this world. I had to figure it out myself.

  Grandma had obviously come home after she’d discovered the truth about the Merrics’ dark powers. But that couldn’t be entirely true, I thought, because Bollard had said Lothaire had broken up with Grandma because he saw her powers. So, Grandma had powers, but hers couldn’t be as terrible as Bollard’s. My grandma was much too good of a person to do that. Besides, Lothaire still cared about her. He said he still loved her.

  There was more to the story. More to the necklace.

  I needed to find the words, whatever they were, but I felt further away from them than ever. I had been in a palace with people who’d known Grandma and with a doctor who specialized in the Tennabris, but here I was on a walk with a stranger who didn’t really talk. Not that being at the palace mattered anyway. I hadn’t trusted people there with what Grandma said, and that was the right choice. It didn’t matter, anyway. I hadn’t trusted people at the palace with what Grandma said, and that was the right choice. Enzo might have told Manon, Manon might have told Bollard. Doc would have told everyone when they drugged him. I had made the right decision there, and I was making the right decision now. I refused to tell Greer anything I didn’t have to. I couldn’t trust him. I could only trust myself. Not that we’d have time. We walked the entire day, even with my wounds.

  By the time we stopped for the night, I was too tired to let my thoughts keep me awake. Without any help from medicine, I fell asleep.

  ~*~

  Claudette’s legs dangled over the side of a large red throne. All done up with nowhere to go. She played with a toy, a ballerina swinging around and flipping back and forth on a string between two pieces of wood.

  A bald man in a gray suit knelt on the floor. I couldn’t see the man’s face from where I was. I wanted to see his face, but I couldn’t move in the dream, which was odd. I’d always walked around in every other dream I remembered. I willed myself to move, but it didn’t work. That’s when I looked down and noticed I had the bulky arms of a man. I was in someone else’s body watching this moment.

  “Your Highness.” The bald man bowed. “The man who was caught in the failed murder attempt...” He stopped talking because Claudette wasn’t paying attention. She found playing with the ballerina more interesting. She flipped the dancer, holding her in the upswing position.

  The man continued. “We have brought him here for his punishment.”

  Claudette still didn’t bother to stop with the flipping. “The Libratiers have questioned him and... and... he isn’t Galvantry.”

  “You!” A voice screamed in my head, and it took me a moment to realize it was from the body I was in. “You stole everything from me. You take me now too!”

  “I’ll read about it in the papers.” She dismissed us both with the flick of her wrist and again, she flipped the ballerina.

  “Your Highness?”

  “I’m bored.” Flip, flip, hold, flip, flip, hold.

  “But the attempt—“

  That got her attention. She stood up. “Attempts happen, and often. Plans happen, and often. I don’t need a lecture. Have someone dispose of him.”

  “You do it yourself, you dirty—” The voice in my head yelled every profanity I had heard and then some. “You do it. Do it. Cut me down like you cut down my Millie, my Fran.”

  Claudette ignored my yelling voice.

  The bald man wasn’t done though. “The life of a Merric has been threatened,” the bald man continued. “That’s not how it is done. Bianca has commanded you.”

  Anger flashed in Claudette’s eyes and the bald man cowered. “You presume to tell me about my family. As if you could understand what it is to be a Merric.”

  The bald man groveled to the floor. “Forgive me, your Highness.”

  On the top of his head, a small silver wisp floated, and then another, and another. All three swirled together into a solid cord.

  Claudette’s face was white, her eyes full of hot rage. She looked as if she wanted to yank the silver cord out of his head—no, burn it—that she wanted nothing more than to ruin the cord, to demolish it. She ignored him though and looked over to the man I was currently inhabiting.

  “I will do nothing to you. Take him away.”

  “No, no.” Tears rolled down my face. “Please, please. I can’t go on without them. Please take me. Please! Have mercy.”

  “Mercy.” Claudette walked towards the man. She took his face in her hands. “I’m not known for mercy.”

  “Please.” The man’s chest heaved. “Take me to them.”

  “Claudette,” a very familiar voice called from behind. Claudette’s eyes focused on the person.

  The bald man turned around past the dream me, and I finally saw his face with his bulbous nose and red cheeks.

  Claudette smirked. “You’re about to get your wish from my dear cousin.”

  The man turned. A dream-vision of myself walked into the room in a beautiful gown, my hair pinned perfectly back as if my stylists had made me over. The bald man ran over to the dream me and whispered something into my ear.

  I stepped forward. I was angry then, angrier than I had ever looked, but not at the man. At Claudette.

  I thought for the briefest seconds that in my dream I might kill Claudette, but then those hate-filled eyes turned from Claudette to the thick-armed man.

  Heat hovered over my head, which was getting hotter by the moment. This struck me as odd. I had never felt anything in my dreams before. The heat increased, burning the top of my head.

  My thoughts went to mush. The room dimmed, blocked by silver wisps, all mixing and swirling together. The ends of the silver blackened. Pained ripped through my body, excruciating and full, like I was being shredded in a million different pieces. I screamed.

  ~*~

  “Waverly, wake up.” Greer shook me. “Wake up.”

  It was so dark and I was so scared; I didn’t think. I flung my arms around Greer and clung to him in a terrified hug. The dream had been so real. A nightmare mixture of what I had experienced with Claudette and Bollard.

  “You were screaming.” Disgusted, he wormed out of my hold. “If anyone is within three miles of here, they heard you. We’ve got to run.” He was wearing his black shirt and pants already, and I wondered
if he’d worn them to bed. He backed out of the tent and called to me, “Hurry up!”

  With lightning speed, I got dressed and out of the tent. Greer grabbed the tent’s zipper. With one flick of his wrist, the tent and the two blankets within folded down to the disk again. He threw it into his bag.

  “Come on!” Greer had put his mask on again.

  We dashed across the shallow river. “What were you thinking?”

  “What do you mean?” My breathing hitched from our sudden sprint.

  “The screaming.”

  “I was asleep; I didn’t even know I was yelling.”

  He knocked a branch out of our way. “Great. So I can expect this in the future. And what was so horrible you had to scream like someone had stabbed you?”

  I ignored the question; I didn’t have a good answer because this dream was new and nothing like I had ever experienced before.

  “Maybe no one heard me.”

  “We aren’t chancing it.” He stopped running as the gently sloping ground became a dirt embankment. He threw his bag up a small rock ledge.

  “Give me your foot.” I stepped into his hands, and he launched me. He jumped catching and pulling himself up.

  We ran into the forest toward the hills. Light broke over the horizon as we climbed to the top. We viewed the small river valley where we’d camped.

  No one was around, but it didn’t matter. We were on the move again and wouldn’t be stopping soon.

  Chapter 25

  Hey, Diddle Diddle

  The rest of the night went by in a blur, and there was little to report. With only three hours of sleep, open cuts in my shoulder and stitches in my head, I was exhausted, but Greer kept us moving at a pace that made talking a chore. Even though there was no sign of the Libratiers, Greer wouldn’t chance us getting caught. We went up and down hills in figures that seemed nothing like normal directions to throw anyone following us off our track.

  Greer’s attitude towards me was icy, but that was fine by me. The silence gave me time to think.

  I had no explanation for the nightmare. I’d never dreamed I was trapped inside another person’s head, and not once in a dream had I ever felt pain. It had to mean something, and if Sasha or Mom were around, they would have helped me figure it out. But no. I was alone with Greer. There was no way I would trust him with the Merrics’ evils or my nightmare. The warm, calming feeling I had felt while looking at Greer had lessened. I didn’t know what to make of those feelings, so I chalked it up to some mixed-up emotion from him rescuing me.

  That night passed without incident. No nightmares. Just a Cloverfield bar, a food I already disliked, and right to bed. We were up before dawn. Up and moving.

  By midday, we were skirting an old and challenging deer trail up the side of a hill. As we came closer to the peak, the path narrowed. We clung to the hillside as not to plummet from the rocky side. Heights were never a “Waverly Issue”, but the idea that one misstep and I’d fall off a rocky ridge to my death kept my heart pounding in my ears.

  By the time we got to the top of the mountain, we were both exhausted and tired and unwilling to go any further. The last few days of endless movement had caught up to Greer. Purple circles darkened his eyes, and he rubbed them often.

  Greer set up the tent just off the trail in the center of a grove of thick brush. He checked out the newspaper on the cubox while we ate cherry protein bars. The reward for the person who found me alive had skyrocketed to twelve million dollars. I was the equivalent to winning the lottery. How lucky for me. I was aching all over. I was tired. I was lonely and literally without a friend in the world but hey, at least I knew how much I was worth.

  Greer was silently reading the news. So, I went to the bathroom behind the bush (one of my least favorite things to do in the woods). I was about to lower my pants when out of nowhere, a shadow flew past my face.

  I ducked down and shielded my head, sure that once more a deranged bird person was after me. No attack. I stood up once again safe. I finished my business and was about to head back when the shadow buzzed me yet again.

  I ducked. This time when I looked up, I had a clear view. The shadow was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was orb-like, with little wisps of shadowy tendrils. Moving in small infinity like motions, the shadow hovered. It was amazing. Beautiful and odd.

  I stepped forward to get a better look, and the shadow moved to a different tree. As soon as I got closer, the shadow jumped to another tree. I moved closer, and it shifted again. This continued over and over like we were playing a game. Twenty times or more, I moved, and the shadow jumped. Thirty jumps. Forty. I was so close to catching it, I couldn’t stop myself.

  And then the shadow disappeared.

  That was when I realized I was very far from camp. And all alone.

  I had to get back. I turned around, but I hadn’t even paid attention. The shadow hadn’t moved in a straight line. Every green old tree looked the same.

  I was lost.

  I panicked. How dumb could I be? Greer. I had to get back to Greer. But the more I tried to get back, the more lost I became.

  Freaked out, and rightfully so, I sat down. If I kept wandering around to find Greer, I would get more lost.

  After an hour of waiting, I heard Greer coming into the clearing.

  “So happy you found me—” I stopped cold.

  A broad-chested, strawberry-blond man in a hunting vest and hat stepped into the clearing. He appeared to be about forty-five. “Well, howdy.” He wore a welcoming smile.

  I jumped up and adjusted my sunglasses.

  “I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he said, stepping forward.

  “I was going back to my camp.” I backed away to move around him. “My big camp is around here and my family and everything, so I better get back because my umm… people will miss me.” Smooth. What a terrible lie. My people? No one said that.

  “Well, it is nice to meet you just the same.” He tipped his hat.

  I started back in the opposite direction of the man and I controlled my pace so he wouldn’t think I was up to something, but the guy was following me.

  “You look lost,” he said.

  “Nope, I’m fine.” The forest all looked the same.

  The man jumped out in front of me. “Look, I didn’t mean to surprise you back there. It’s getting late out here, and you don’t want to be in the woods all by your lonesome. There are terrible things in these woods, terrible things.”

  “I’ll be fine. You know, my dad’s at camp and he’s got stuff to take care of us.”

  “Well, hold up a second,” he said. I pushed past him. “Just hold up. You’re lost, I can tell, and you’re not safe. My wife would shoot me if I left a kid like you out in the woods by yourself.”

  “Our camp is right over here,” I said, pointing to the left.

  He called to me. “Sorry to tell you this, but that’s the way to my camp!”

  I was so lost.

  He stepped beside me. “What’s your name?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t even know how to respond but he waited patiently, and I had to tell him something. “Sam.”

  “Well, Sam, my wife is making dinner at camp. I’m sure my daughters would love the company. They’re getting sick of it being the four of us. Why don’t you come over?”

  Considering the danger my life was in and the reward on my head, this was the last thing I wanted. I needed to say no, was going to say no, when I noticed the knife hitched on his belt. This guy seemed nice enough, but that meant nothing. Bollard had seemed okay too. So had Manon, and for a short time, Claudette had, too. This guy could turn on me at any second, hold the knife to my neck, and end my life. He could also turn me in for ransom money.

  Stuck without a real option, I could run, but that would only raise his suspicion. If I went with him, he might hurt me. I didn’t know what to do.

  “No need to look so frightened. We’re all nice. I’m Nate Diddle. Wife’s name is Laura. Our oldest
daughter is Natalie—we call her Nat Cat—and our little squirt is Donna.”

  “You have kids?” Kids were a comfort. Most people don’t kill strangers in front of their kids.

  “Yeah. Come on. You look like you need a good meal and a hot bath,” the man said. He waited for me to walk next to him.

  The first stars of the night were coming out in the darkening sky. Through the brush and trees, I made out the family’s camp and I felt somewhat better. The wife, Laura, was cooking over an open fire. The older daughter was sitting alone, braiding her hair. His younger daughter was playing with dolls and catching them over by their tiny redwood house. The Diddles—tiny house people.

  I felt better but not at ease with the situation. They didn’t seem like the enemy but then again, no one did. That was the problem.

  “Look what I found in the woods!” Nate Diddle called as we entered the camp.

  Donna stood, a little startled to see me. Laura and Natalie gave each other big smiles, obviously happy to see me.

  “It’s so nice to see you. I’m Laura,” the mother said.

  “I told her a little in the woods: names and that there would be dinner and possibly a bath,” Nate explained.

  “I’m Sam.” Anxiety filled my voice.

  “And I’m Christopher.” The instant I saw Greer come into the clearing my whole body relaxed, and I sighed out of deep relief. Greer was here. He placed his arm around my back and whispered, “Act normal.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Nate came forward and shook his hand, followed by Laura.

  “Yes, well, we weren’t expecting to see anyone out here in the woods,” Greer said. “We better get going, Sam.”

  “What’s the rush?” Nate asked, his plump face beaming. “We have plenty for dinner. Sit down and stay awhile.”

  “Sam, Christopher. We have seen no one for weeks. Please, won’t you stay? It’s so nice to have company.”

  “Donna, set the table for our guests,” Nate said before Greer or I could refuse. She put down her doll and ran inside, and Natalie, who had been eyeing Greer the whole time, gave him a big smile and followed Donna.